


8.) Dare You to Trust Me

by The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baz being existentially dramatic in canon-typical fashion, M/M, Mutual Pining, Truth or Dare, Underage Drinking, canon-typical dumbassery, contrived trope in a dramatic plot, enemies hanging out for no reason except I needed them to, illegal use of magic, what kind of fuckery is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-25 23:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19755946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/pseuds/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff
Summary: Baz pulls away and reflects. Simon pines and tries to plan with unlikely allies. And the plan actually works, to his surprise. Sort of.





	8.) Dare You to Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all! Welcome to my contribution for the Carry On Round Robin (if you’ve not read the previous chapters, check out the collection to get caught up). 
> 
> This was super fun to write, but also I’m filled with dread because it was a little bit difficult to fit this trope into the current storyline in a way that didn’t feel forced (as such…it might be a little forced)(that's also why it's a tad long). But I suppose that’s what this project is all about, right?
> 
> This is also my first experience writing anything for the boys during their school years, & I have to say I’m super into it & would love to explore this more in future (you know, when I don’t have a million WIPs on the backburner).
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

**BAZ**

I don't know what I'm thinking.

I don't know why I'm _torturing myself_ like this. He’s _straight;_ that’s what Wellbelove told me.

And he told Wellbelove I’m not. 

I don't know what I'm doing. I've never kissed anyone before, and I don't know if it's good, and this doesn't _feel_ like I'm getting what I want. It feels like I'm closing the door on it. 

I pull away. Snow looks like he's in shock, and perhaps he is. Perhaps that's an appropriate feeling to have when your sworn enemy's just kissed you for the first time. 

Aleister Crowley, I've just _kissed_ Simon Snow.

I think I might be sick.

"Um," he says, but I've already pushed past him. I'm already walking out the door.

**SIMON**

_Fuck._

**BAZ**

Snow doesn’t follow me, and thank snakes for that. 

I can’t look at him right now. I don’t know that I’ll _ever_ be able to look at him. 

My bare feet carry me to the White Chapel without my thinking about it. The ground is cold, and damp, but I don’t mind.

I light a flame in my palm once I’ve reached the Catacombs. I don’t need it to see in the dark, but I’m _cold_ now, in more ways than one, and this will at least help warm me from the outside.

I slide to the ground and rest my back against my mother’s tomb. Extinguish my flame. Pull my knees into my chest.

I've not written anything to her since I caught Snow reading my diary. I've locked it away with a good spell, but _still_ . He’s seen that I’m gay. He’s seen that I’m in love with him. But how much did he _actually_ read? If he saw everything I've written about him…

Crowley knows what would happen. My complete mortification is guaranteed at the very least. (If it can get any worse.) And he'd have that bit of information to hang over my head forever.

I could kill him, I suppose. But that wouldn't solve any of my problems. It'd only add to my misery.

No.

No, I could let him kill me instead. Maybe I'd kiss him first. Better, this time. Then let him run me through with his sword. I could die in his arms. 

Probably that's the only way I'd ever die happy. The look on Simon Snow's face as the life drained out of my eyes. 

No, I don’t want that either, do I? Not really. And _Simon._ What does _he_ want? To be with me? That’s a laugh.

I can still feel the press of his warm lips against mine.

Fuck, I wish I never figured this out. Hating him was so much easier than _this_.

**SIMON**

Baz isn’t in our room when I wake up.

The first thing I think is he must be tired, because he never gets up this early and I know he didn’t get to sleep until late last night. I almost followed him, when he stormed out. I mean, he’d just _kissed me._ And left. Then, well. I figured he probably wanted to be alone. So I let him go.

I waited for him to come back, though. Tried to talk to him. Tried to _understand._

He made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to talk about anything. At all. He ignored me when he came in, then showered (which is weird; he usually showers in the mornings, so that’s twice now this week he’s done things out of order)(maybe he showers when he’s nervous)(who fucking knows how Baz’s mind works, honestly)(certainly not me at this point).

Anyway. He showered. And when he was done he said, _“Don’t fucking talk to me_ ,” before he got into bed.

So I didn’t fucking talk to him. I ground my teeth and tried not to leak my magic all over the place instead.

I didn’t even fall asleep until he did. I’m just now realizing that listening to Baz breathe relaxes me, which makes sense in retrospect, I guess.

I’m not looking forward to breakfast. _That_ is especially fucked up. 

Baz isn’t at breakfast, either.

It’s just Dev and Niall in their usual spot, and they look like they’re whispering about something. Baz, probably.

Penelope and Agatha aren’t down yet, and I’m a bit grateful for that, honestly. I don’t know that I can talk to Agatha just now. I’m pretty hacked off that she talked to Baz behind my back, actually. And that she tried to tell him I was _straight_ and _just curious_ and whatever the fuck else she said.

I thought on that while I was waiting for Baz to fall asleep, too.

I guess I’ve never thought much about what I am, but I _know_ I want to kiss Baz. Again. Properly. _That’s_ not curiosity. And I’m pretty sure it’s not _straight,_ either.

I glance over at Dev and Niall again. They’re still hunched in to each other, talking.

They’re sat next to the coffee. I don’t usually have coffee with breakfast; it makes me feel a little too amped up. Almost like I might go off. But I walk over there anyway and pour myself a cup because maybe I’ll be able to hear something.

It’s a bit hard to hear over everyone’s silverware clattering, but I do.

"– _always_ something up between Baz and Snow. What's your point?" Niall.

"Nah, it's something... _else_. And I want to get to the bottom of it, whatever it is, so that Baz'll stop being a tit and things can go back to normal." Dev.

I’ve got my back to them. I’m just stood here biting my lip and holding a cup of coffee I’m not going to drink. It takes me a second to realize they’ve stopped talking.

“Snow.” Dev again.

I turn around.

"What are you doing?” Dev says.

I hold up my cup. “Getting a coffee?”

Dev raises an eyebrow at me. Must run in the family.

I sigh. No one else is sat at their table, so I guess it’s unlikely anyone will overhear. “It’s about Baz.”

Dev’s eyes narrow. "What've you done to him, then?"

"What?"

" _What have you done to him_."

I don't know that I should say. I mean, Dev and Niall are Baz's friends, and if he hasn't told them himself…

But maybe telling them would help in the long run. Maybe?

I shrug. "Um. I sort of. Well." I catch myself tugging at my hair, so I drop my hand. It slaps against my thigh. "I might've tried to kiss him."

Niall looks surprised. Confused. Both? "You what?"

Dev slaps him in the arm. "You owe me ten quid."

" _What_?" I say. They ignore me.

"I _told_ you," Dev says to Niall. "I told you. Snow fancies Baz. That's been the trouble the whole time hasn't it?"

"What?" I say again, because I’m a little put out that someone else knew I fancied Baz before I did. “Look, have you seen him today? Is he alright?”

“I fucking _knew_ it.” Dev’s practically giggling now. “Holy shit.”

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” Niall says, then he turns to me. “Is this some sort of joke to you?”

I’m more than a little hacked off that _everyone_ seems to think this is some fucking joke, or scheme, or _whatever._ But I try to think what Penelope might do if Dev and Niall tried to talk to her about me. Probably she’d be suspicious. Probably she’d think Baz was trying to hurt me. (I know he wouldn’t. I know that now.) “ _No,_ ” I say. “ _No._ It’s not a joke.” I set my coffee down on their table. “Can I sit?”

They give each other a look, some sort of weird secret communication. Then they nod at me.

I sit down across from them. “Right. The whole thing’s a bit fucked up, to be honest, but…” 

* * *

“You want to do _what_?” Penelope asks.

She’s sat at the table with Dev and Niall and me, now. I think she thought they’d trapped me or something, when she first came down to breakfast, but now she’s caught up on everything. Me reading Baz’s diary. Me telling Agatha about it ( _without_ telling her it was Baz's) because I thought she might be able to help. Agatha figuring out it was Baz and then talking to him about me telling her about reading his diary. How I tried to kiss him last night, but Penny interrupted. How I tried to kiss him again, later, because I wanted to. How Baz kissed me and then stormed off. How I just want everything to be _fixed._

Also she didn't seem surprised that I fancy Baz. She just said, " _Oh. That makes sense._ " As if I wasn't complaining about him plotting to kill me just last week.

Fucking hell, Baz would _actually_ rather set a chimera on me than tell me how he feels. I'm trying not to think about that.

Dev rolls his eyes. “We need to fix this. Baz is a bit of a tosser; it won’t be easy unless we force him into it.”

Penny’s eyes narrow behind her glasses. “You’ve just said you want to play some drinking game. In Simon and Basil’s room. Together. All of us.”

Dev shrugs. “Could be fun, yeah.”

“We have _never_ done something _fun_ together as a group,” Penny points out. “And Baz will never agree to it.”

“Again,” Dev sighs, “we’ll have to coerce him. And by coerce I mean we all wait for him in Mummers Tower and don’t let him leave once he’s there.”

“He’s got football practice this evening,” I say.

Dev and Niall give me a look like it's weird that I’d know that. I guess I was never sure why I knew that either, till now. I guess I always just figured he was plotting at football practice. Which is stupid in retrospect. Now I’m thinking maybe I just like to see him kitted out with his hair knotted back. Sweaty. Strong.

Fuck. 

"Also," Dev says, "Truth or Dare isn't a drinking game. We'll just be _having_ drinks while we play."

"Your plan being what?" Penny says. "To loosen everyone up? To give us lowered inhibitions so we actually tell the truth and do the dares?"

"Well no," Dev says. "We’ll use a spell for that."

"Mate…" Niall says. "I'm not sure that's _legal_."

"It's most definitely _not_ ," Penny says. "I don't understand the point of this."

"Obviously Snow and Baz aren't getting anywhere trying to _talk_ ," Dev says. 

"Not like I haven't tried," I mumble.

"Point is that the game could help, you know. Bring things to light." That's a nice way of putting it.

I look around the room again. No one's paying us any mind. “It’s _wrong,_ making him do something with magic," I say.

Dev rolls his eyes. “ _Fine._ How about we all agree that Baz’s love life – or lack thereof – is off limits, at least to a point. No asking him who he fancies. No daring him to kiss anyone. Fair?” Dev holds his hand out to me. I stare at it. “Look, Snow. I just want Baz to have a little fun. Don’t you?”

I _do._ I mean, I also want to finish what we started, but I don’t want to force Baz into it, either. Maybe a fun drinking game is just what we need. Maybe it’s just what Baz needs to loosen up. Not that the five of us have ever _had_ fun together before. Merlin, maybe this is an awful idea. Probably. 

I shake Dev's hand anyway.

**PENELOPE**

Nicks and _Slick_ , I don't know why I'm going along with this.

Maybe because I want to see Simon happy, and maybe because he's finally got it into his head that he and Agatha aren't right for each other.

Not that I'm sure Basilton Pitch is a good match for him. He _has_ tried to kill Simon on more than one occasion. (That seems like a disqualifier for a healthy relationship, in my opinion.)

Okay, maybe I'm just going along with this to make sure nothing bad happens to Simon. There's no way I'm leaving him alone in his room with Baz and Baz's minions. He’s safe from Baz in there, sure, but I don't know that the Anathema would _work_ on Dev and Niall. (Also Dev promised Simon that he’d send another chimera after him himself if Simon does anything to hurt Baz.)(The entirety of breakfast was a bit of a fever dream, honestly.)

Agatha's suspicious, I think, but I haven't told her what we're up to. Simon says he feels guilty, not telling her, and also for leading her on. I don’t think it’s _possible_ to lead someone on when you don’t even know that’s what you’re doing. And also he’s obviously not the only one who’s guilty, if what he said about Agatha’s reaction to the contents of Baz’s diary is true. (I should really get Agatha’s side before making assumptions, but Agatha fancying Baz also just _makes sense_.)

Personally I think they’re all morons, the three of them, and I’m glad I found Micah when I did so I don’t have to get caught up in an irritating love triangle dynamic myself. Too much precious time and energy wasted, if you ask me.

Still, I suppose I _am_ caught up in an irritating love triangle dynamic anyway. What choice do I have? They’re my _friends_ , barring Basil, and if I’m honest I probably wouldn’t mind having him as a friend, either. He’s a clever bloke, and cleverness makes for interesting conversation. 

It’s a little after dinner – football practice will probably be over in less than an hour – and I’m leaving the Cloisters for Mummers House when I hear hurried footsteps and Agatha calling my name.

_Damn it._

**BAZ**

I’ve tried my damnedest not to see Snow today.

I woke up early for breakfast, then walked the grounds, managed to avoid him at lunch _and_ dinner. We didn’t even have any shared classes today. He didn’t show up to my football practice, which is admittedly strange, but maybe he’s finally gotten the hint that I just want him to fuck off and let me suffer in privacy.

I shower in the changing room (longer than necessary, but I want to put off returning to Mummers Tower for as long as I can). Tomorrow’s the weekend, and we’ve no classes, so I’ll have to get more creative about my tactics for avoiding Snow over the next few days. I’ve _thought_ of asking Dev and Niall if I could sleep in their room, but I don’t want to seem pathetic. And also I don’t want to sleep on the floor.

It's too early to hunt. I've a mind to go out to the wood tonight, stay out until Snow's asleep. Not that that worked last night. 

It's probably safe to go back to the room now. Snow usually does whatever Snow does on Friday nights with his sidekick and his damsel in distress at his side. Likely as not, our room is empty. And if he's there, well. I'll tell him to fuck right off.

Or I'll just leave.

I put on clean clothes – jeans and a jumper – and dry my hair with magic (I can practically hear Madam Bellamy scolding, “ _That’s a waste of magic, Mr Pitch,_ ” in my ear, which is moronic), then I head back to Mummers House.

My stomach is roiling by the time I start up the stairs. The stairs I punched Snow down just the other day. I suppose there’s no point in being nervous, because he’s always going to be right here. There's no good way to avoid him in the long run, not really. Not unless one of us dies. 

One of us will die, of course, and it'll likely be me, but I wanted to finish school first. It's what my mother would've wanted. And I'm stuck with my half-wit roommate until the end of eighth year, unless he decides not to come back for eighth. The Mage would never allow that, and it's not like Simon has anywhere else to go.

Crowley, I _hate_ that the thought of Simon not having anywhere else to go makes me feel sorry for him.

I hate everything about him right now.

Except I _don't._

I pause outside our door, take a deep breath. I don't hear any noise inside. I'd be able to, if he were here, even without my heightened senses. Snow bumbles about like half a fucking numpty.

I'm a little relieved that he's not here. I'm a little disappointed, too.

Well. I can be relieved and disappointed in the comfort of my own room, I suppose. The lock’s already clicked open for me, so I turn the knob, step inside –

What. 

The.

_Fuck_.

Snow _is_ here, and so are Bunce and Wellbelove (which is against the rules; girls aren’t allowed in Mummers House). The three of them are sat on Snow’s bed, and on _mine…_

Dev and Niall. And a bottle of clear liquor.

I do my best to look bored as I let the door click shut behind me. Or it doesn’t click, rather. Somebody must’ve cast a silencing spell in here. Bunce, more than likely; Snow can’t manage even the most basic spells without setting something on fire, and Wellbelove’s magic’s too weak. Niall could’ve managed it, I suppose, but the room smells strongly of sage. Definitely Bunce, then. She smells like a wiccan.

We stare at each other, the six of us.

Snow breaks the silence. Of course.

“Baz,” he says. “You’re. You’re wearing _jeans._ ”

**SIMON**

I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve seen Baz in jeans.

_Is_ this the first time I’ve seen Baz in jeans? Maybe?

I mean, I feel like I’d _remember,_ with him looking like that. Then again I’ve been rather thick about this whole thing, haven’t I? Probably I’d just think I was jealous of his perfect arse. Or something.

I suppose it’s technically the weekend, now. He doesn’t need his uniform. (I wear my uniform at the weekend, but only because I don’t have anything else.)(I _don’t_ wear the boater.) 

Baz doesn’t look as put out or pissed off as I thought he might when he found all of us here. Mostly he just looks bored.

“What’s this?” he says, finally. He ignores my comment about his trousers, but he’s ignoring me in general, really. He’s ignoring my side of the room completely, talking to Dev and Niall like Penny and Agatha and I aren’t here.

Agatha wasn’t _supposed_ to be here, but she ran into Penny outside the Cloisters and tagged along, and I’m really hoping this whole plan isn’t about to go to shit.

Dev pats Baz’s bed. “Come sit, mate.”

Baz doesn’t move. “Dev,” he says. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Friday night.” Dev holds up the bottle of vodka he pilfered from the teacher’s lounge. (I’m not sure _why_ there was vodka in the teacher’s lounge, but.) “Figured we’d take some shots. Play a game.”

Baz finally looks to my side of the room. He doesn’t meet my eyes. “What, with them?”

“Yep,” Dev says. I’m glad he’s doing the talking; he sounds confident, like Baz isn’t about to turn on his heel and leave us here.

“ _Why_?” Baz says.

Dev rolls his eyes. “For _fun_.”

“Look, Baz,” I say. Probably I _shouldn’t_ talk right now, but I need him to know this isn’t a trick. Even though it sort of is. And also I need him to look at me. Which he does. “Just. Truce, yeah? For tonight?”

Baz narrows his eyes at me. Then he walks over to his bed and sits down, which is probably the best I’m going to get right now. “Right,” he says. “What are we playing?” 

**BAZ**

I didn’t want to agree to this, but I’m not a coward.

I must admit I started really regretting my decision as soon as Dev told me we’d be playing Truth or Dare, and with an assurance spell no less. " _It's very important to the integrity of the game that no one cheats_ ," he said.

I think it has less to do with integrity and a lot to do with everything going on between Simon and me, but I don’t have proof. And also I can’t back out now. And _also,_ I’m slightly drunk, so that’s a plus.

The game’s been rather innocent so far, actually, though Wellbelove looks rather put out to be here. She tried to leave after Dev explained the rules, but Bunce reminded her that she could get caught leaving all by her lonesome, so she stayed put. Huffily. 

Dev, on the other hand, looks well pleased that she’s here, and it only grows more obvious every time the tosser takes a shot. He's even managed to weasel his way into being sat next to her.

We’re all sat on the floor in a circle now. Snow’s ended up next to me, somehow, and his shoulder keeps brushing mine, and he’s so warm that all I want is to lean into him. I don’t. I’m not _that_ drunk. 

I’ve been thinking on how to use my next turn. I’m going after Snow, I’ve already decided, and if he picks truth…

If he picks truth, this could be my chance to find out how he really feels about me. The spell won’t allow him to lie. Still, it feels _wrong_ , doing it that way. I don’t know that I can.

“Baz.” Wellbelove’s looking at me, smiling. She doesn’t look so put out anymore; maybe she’s had a bit too much to drink for that. “Truth or dare?” she asks. 

My stomach lurches. I’ve somehow managed to avoid anyone asking about the whole Snow situation thus far, which seems like a bit of a happy accident. And everyone in this room knows I’m gay at this point, which is more than a bit terrifying. (Maybe a bit freeing, too, honestly.)

I swallow and try my best to look bored. “Truth,” I say, because neither option is a good one.

Wellbelove bites her lip, _blushes_ a bit. I can practically smell her blood rising in her cheeks. “Is the person you fancy in the room right now?” I feel Snow flinch, just a bit. 

My eyes fall closed. She _knows_ the answer to that. Everyone does. Well, not _everyone_. I’ve not told Dev and Niall. They know I’m gay, but I didn’t dare tell them about Snow. I’d planned to take that shame to the grave with me, until Snow read my bloody diary and everything went to shit.

There’s a pull in my gut, almost like it felt when the Crucible cast Snow and I together on our first day at Watford. It’s only going to get worse the longer I wait to answer.

My body goes through the motions of blushing but I know they can’t see. Thank Morgana I haven’t fed tonight. “You know the answer to that,” I say. I make sure to fill it with as much venom as I can. “ _Yes_.” The pull behind my navel loosens, and I sigh. Snow leans his shoulder into mine. I don’t pull away. Because I’m weak.

Wellbelove looks disappointed, almost like…

Almost like she didn't _believe_ me, when I talked to her about Simon, though I suppose I can't blame her for that. It’s not like I’ve always been entirely truthful with her, anyway. 

Maybe Simon was right about her fancying me. Well. She's better off this way. Best to rip the plaster off now so she can wake up and realize it's never going to happen.

Niall's on my other side. He nudges me. "Your turn, mate."

Well. Now’s my chance I suppose. “Snow,” I say. I turn my head just enough to get a glimpse of him. Blue eyes. Bronze curls. A hint of a blush creeping out of his collar. _Crowley._ “Truth or dare?”

He juts his chin forward that infernal way he does. “Truth.”

I could ask him anything. Ask if he really fancies me. But I know how that felt, and I don’t want it.

My eyes flick over to Wellbelove again. I just need to know… “Did you really tell Wellbelove about me? About my being gay?” This is my chance to know if he outed me, to get the _truth._

“No.” He says it right away. “Not exactly, anyway. It’s…complicated. I mean, I didn't tell her it was you. I guess she sort of just...figured _out_ it was you. I didn't mean for that to happen.”

My hand is resting on my knee. I nearly jump off the floor when Simon sets his on top of it. He's so incredibly _warm._

I sneak another glance at Agatha. She's staring at the floor. 

Snow squeezes my hand, and we look at each other, and I know he's telling the truth, even without the spell. 

He looks away. "Dev. Truth or dare?" He doesn't let go of my hand.

Dev folds his arms over his chest. "Dare," he says. Cocky bastard.

"Go in the bathroom and lick my bar of soap. It's the only one; Baz is too posh for bar soap."

"Kinky," Dev says, and he gets up and disappears into our bathroom. "Crowley, Snow, is this school issue?" A retch echoes from the shower, then Dev comes back looking like he's about to be sick. "I'm about one hundred percent sure I just ate one of your pubes."

I don't know that I've ever heard Bunce laugh so hard. Niall's smirking. Even Wellbelove gave us a titter. I, for one, am trying my damnedest not to smile. It's not working as well as I'd like.

Snow shrugs. We're still holding hands. "That's your own fault," he says. "Wasn't part of the dare."

Dev huffs, wipes his mouth, sits next to Wellbelove again. "Alright. Agatha," he says. She takes her time turning her head towards him. "Truth or dare?" He grins at her, waits.

She answers quicker than I'd expect. "Dare," she says, a little more confidently than I'd expect.

"I dare you to go on a date with me. Tomorrow."

I don't know what I was expecting. Certainly not _that._ I glance at Niall, but he's not looking at me. He looks... disappointed. _Interesting._

"Dev," Niall says. "You can't use the game to get dates. Not with the spell. That's. Well, it's. It's _dodgy._ "

Dev shrugs. "Let's lift the spell, then." He pulls out his wand, casts the counterspell. His elocution is impressive for the amount of vodka he's had, I'll give him that. He slips his wand away and turns back to Wellbelove. "So? Will you?"

Wellbelove tilts her head. "Alright, then," she says. I’m not sure that keeping her romantic interests in my family is the best plan, but better Dev than me.

Dev grins. I think Bunce rolls her eyes; it's hard to tell with her glasses. Niall still looks a bit put out. And _Simon_ …

His hand's still holding mine. He didn't even flinch when Dev asked Agatha out, or when she said yes. I finally turn my head to look at him. (I've been avoiding it since Dev's turn started.) He's _grinning_ , that crooked, dorky Snow grin that I love. And hate that I love.

Well. Maybe this isn't some elaborate joke after all.

* * *

Dev and Niall make sure the girls get out of Mummers House unseen, and Snow and I stand awkwardly across from each other on our respective sides of the room. He finally let go of my hand to get up and show everyone out. He held my hand so long, my skin’s still warm to the touch.

"Well. They're gone, now,” he says, finally.

"Yes. Well-spotted, Snow."

Simon shrugs. He’s not looking at me. "That was fun."

“Mm.” I’m not sure what to _do_ with myself now. What’re we _supposed_ to do, after all that’s happened? Forget the past and pretend to be happy boyfriends? 

"D'you wanna keep playing?" he asks.

I think, _I do. I want to do anything with you that makes it feel like we're just two people for once. Not enemies. Just two teenage boys._

I say, _"Simon…_ "

"C'mon, Baz, it was fun. We had _fun_ , yeah?"

He looks so…

I sigh. I can't say no to him right now. "Fine, Snow. Let's play "

He sits cross-legged on his bed. Does he expect me to join him? "You called me Simon before," he says. 

I sit across from him. His bed smells like a campfire. "No, I didn't."

"You _did,_ " he says, and he reaches for my hand. I let him take it. He's so warm. So _alive._ "Just now, you did."

"No," I say. 

He's grinning like an idiot. He might still be a little drunk. 

"You wanted to play the game, Snow," I say. "Let's get on with it."

**SIMON**

I don't think I expected Baz to agree to this, but the liquour's got him relaxed and I thought I might as well give it a shot. (It's got me relaxed too.) And it could be fun, this, playing a game like two normal blokes. (Well, not _Normal,_ but.)

“Truth or dare?” Baz says. Ah, he’s starting us off then. 

My lips quirk up. “Truth,” I say. I’m still holding his hand, and I think mine would be sweating if he weren’t so cold. 

Baz isn’t looking at me. “How did it feel? When Dev asked Agatha out?”

Oh. I guess I should’ve expected that. I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Like relief.” It’s _true_ , I realize. So true. Which means it’s probably a damn good thing whatever was going on between Agatha and me didn’t go any further. 

Baz looks up at me. He’s not _smiling,_ exactly, but he isn’t frowning, either. Or pouting. I wonder what he’s thinking.

**BAZ**

I don’t know what I’m thinking.

**SIMON**

“I,” I say, and I giggle a bit as I lace our fingers together. Play with his. They're rough. Fire-holder's hands. (I still can't believe he's letting me hold his hand.) “I dare _you..._ to kiss _me._ But only, like...if you want.” I'm just now realizing that I haven't asked him to pick truth or dare, but the truth is I’ve wanted to kiss him since he walked in. I thought I might die waiting out that bloody game. 

There’s a hint of _something_ in Baz’s face, almost like he’s let his guard down. Just a bit. And then he starts to lean in, and I think he’s going to do it, oh _Jesus Christ,_ he’s _going to do it_ – 

He presses a kiss into my cheek instead. (I think I have a mole there.) His lips are cool, and all I want is to turn my head, but he’s already drawn back. 

“Cheeky,” I say. My skin’s tingling where he kissed me. I like it. “You wanker.” 

Baz sits back. We’re still holding hands, and I’m not sure if that’s why I feel so pleasantly stupid or if I’m just still drunk. “My turn, Snow. Truth or dare?” 

I’m not sure what his angle is here. Baz is hard to read at the best of times, but now? Will he dare me to kiss him if I pick dare? That’s more than a bit tempting, but…

I grin at him. “Truth.”

Baz looks like he’s thinking something over, like maybe he doesn’t _want_ to ask me something. Also like he’s surprised I’ve picked truth. And also I think he’s sucking on his fangs. (I can’t stop watching his mouth.)

His lips part, finally, and I want to slot mine between them. (I don’t.) “You’ve tried to kiss me now. Twice. Why?” He’s averted his eyes, and he’s picking at a loose thread in my comforter with his free hand. I don’t have the time to berate him for fucking with my things right now. (I take that hand in mine instead.)

“Thought that was obvious,” I say.

Baz looks up then, his grey eyes shining silver with the moonlight coming through our window. His pupils are blown huge, and I think he might cry. I don’t _want_ him to cry. 

“‘S because I _like you,_ innit?” I whisper. “I like _this._ And that’s the truth. Spell or no.” His eyes fall closed, and a single tear trails down one of his cheeks. I’d reach out and catch it, but I don’t want to let go of him. I squeeze his hands with mine instead, and his breath catches. His heart is hammering in his palms. He’s so _alive._ “Your turn. Truth or dare?” 

His eyes open. They’re some of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen. He takes a deep breath, lets it out. “I dare _you_ ,” he says. His hands are shaking in mine. 

“C’mon, Baz; that’s not how the game works." He lowers his eyes. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "Look, we can stop playing, if–”

“Fine then. Dare,” he says.

I squeeze his hands again. There's so many things I could say right now. I could dare him to kiss me again. Maybe he'd kiss me proper this time. But. 

_But._

"I dare you to trust me," I say. I'm not rightly sure where it comes from, but it sounds _right._ "Just _trust_ me, yeah? I don't want. I'm not." _Fuck,_ how do I say any of this? I'm _shit_ with words. "I'm not out to get you."

Baz raises an eyebrow at me.

"Not anymore," I say.

He actually snorts, which makes me smile. I like him like this. Laughing. Happy.

"Truth or dare then, Snow." There's a sort of glint in his eye, and a smirk playing on his lips. I rather like it.

I jut my chin forward, just a bit. "Dare."

His tongue trails along his lips. (I know because I'm still watching his mouth.) Then he says, "I dare you to kiss me."

**BAZ**

Well. I’ve got nothing to lose at this point, not really. 

Snow’s face has just broken out into a stupid, crooked grin. I want to kiss it off of him. I don’t. 

“What’d you say?” he says.

I lift my chin, just a bit. (I need to evoke some semblance of confidence here.) “I dare you to kiss me.”

Snow grins _wider_ , if that’s possible, and the rest happens completely too fast to register. He huffs a laugh, I think, and lets go of my hands. Takes hold of my face. Kisses me.

_Kisses me._

Simon tastes like vodka, like smoke, like... _something_ . Something well and truly his. His lips are warm, and he's doing this lovely thing with his chin, moving it against me, _with_ me, like this is what we've always been meant to do. 

I take hold of his wrist with my hand, and he teases my bottom lip with his tongue, and I almost let him in. Almost.

Because that's when I feel it, an uncontrollable itch in my skull.

That's when my fangs start to drop.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes it be like that when you haven’t fed on time & the boy you love is touching your mouth with his mouth; I don’t make the rules. 
> 
> [Come say hi to me over on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thehoneyedhufflepuff) I’m a disaster over there but that’s sort of my aesthetic so it’s fine.


End file.
